100 Moods, 100 Stories
by youbstrds
Summary: A collection of short fics relating in some way to the relationship platonic, romantic or sexual between Stan and Kyle.
1. Nervous

_There will (hopefully) be 100 short stories or drabbles in this set, each relating to a particular mood, from the LJ 100moods community's list. They will not be in order because I suck. Updates will be sporadic, but there should be at least one or two a week._

Nervous

Notes were piled up over Kyle's desk. Many sheets of paper had spilt onto the floor and been kicked around, now encasing Kyle and his desk in a prison of paper. Nearby, a small cityscape had been created with piles of books; it was hard for Stan to resist the temptation to do a Godzilla impression and kick them all to the ground. Instead, he remained firmly rooted on his bed, frequently looking up to see how his boyfriend was doing. The prisoner looked up and out of the window mournfully.

"It's dark already. I didn't get to go outside at all today," he said.

"I did try to drag you out earlier," Stan said. "You threw a book at my head."

"I don't want to fail, Stan," said Kyle quietly. "What would my mom do?"

"Kyle, you've had top marks in all your essays so far. Your tutor wants to publish one of them. You are not going to fail." Kyle stood up and began walking up and down their tiny room.

"But what if we get asked about English influences on the colonies? Or how the hierarchy affected the politics of the time and whether it worked as they had intended? I can't remember many historians' views on that; I'll get marked down for not being able to give historiographical details." Stan lunged out and pulled Kyle down onto the bed. Kyle stared blankly up at him as Stan ran a finger down his chest in a zigzag.

"You'll be fine, Kyle," Stan said. "You always get like this the night before an exam and you always do brilliantly."

"There's a first time for everything," Kyle replied. His expression softened as Stan slipped a hand beneath his top and began rubbing his chest. "Mm. 'S nice."

"Yeah, and the first time you fail a test will be the same day aliens lobotomise you." Kyle chuckled.

"I feel like I should be writing more notes," he said, looking back guiltily at his desk. Stan took Kyle's face in his hands and turned it back to him.

"Do you really hate the rainforests that much?" Stan teased. His hands slid down Kyle's torso and lightly fingered Kyle's belt buckle. "Come on, dude. You always stress out the night before, don't sleep properly and feel awful on the day. How about we get rid of that nervous energy?"

"Well...," said Kyle, his gaze flicking back to the desk. Stan rubbed firmly on his crotch with the palm on his hand. Kyle wriggled a little and finally managed a smile. "Mmm..." Stan took that as a sign of assent.

They both slept well that night.


	2. Envious

**1 new text message**

**Cartman, received 10:18pm, 10th May**

HOW LONG HAS STAN BEEN GAY 4 WHERE R U R U GAY 2?

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 11:16am, 11th May**

Dude that was a weird party. You free today?

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 2:34pm, 11th May**

Answer your phone!! Talk to me PLEASE

**3 new text messages**

**Stan, received 4:42pm**

Kyle this is important

**Stan, received 6:00pm**

Why aren't you talking to me?

**Stan, received 8:09pm**

Have you blocked me on IM??

**2 new text messages**

**Stan, received 11:53 pm, 11th May**

FUCK YOU SUPER BEST FRIEND

**Stan, received 11:56pm, 11th May**

I'm sorry. I really need to talk to you. I need you Kyle

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 12:27pm, 12th May**

Kyle PLEASE. Why are you ignoring me??

**Message sent, 12:28pm, 12th May**

Why aren't you sucking that guy's face off some more?

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:05pm, 12th May**

Come on dude answer your phone. Since when were you homophobic?

**Message sent, 1:26pm, 12th May**

I'm not. Go play tongue twister with your new boyfriend.

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:27pm, 12th May**

You're acting pretty homophobic. He's not my boyfriend

**Message sent, 1:30pm, 12th May**

Nice coming out. Thanks for trusting me.

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:32pm, 12th May**

I didn't mean for anything to happen!

**Message sent, 1:36pm, 12th May**

You let the whole world know you were gay by making out with some douchebag. You know, I didn't even believe it until I saw it for myself.

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:40pm, 12th May**

I'm sorry I didn't tell you! I just got carried away

**Message sent, 1:43pm, 12th May**

That wasn't all you got

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:45pm, 12th May**

Ha ha. Can we talk in person?

**Message sent, 1:47pm, 12th May**

Go talk to your kissing buddy

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:55pm, 12th May**

What is your problem?

**Message sent, 1:56pm, 12th May**

I'm not the one with a problem

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 1:58pm, 12th May**

Yeah, right. Sure you're not homophobic?

**Message sent, 1:59pm, 12th May**

Yes

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 2:01pm, 12th May**

You might want to think about that

**Message sent, 2:05pm, 12th May**

Oh yeah? I LIKE COCKS TOO.

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 2:07pm, 12th May**

ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 2:10pm, 12th May**

TALK TO ME KYLE

**1 new text message**

**Stan, received 2:13pm, 12th May**

GODDAMMIT KYLE STOP BEING A BABY

**12 new text messages received**

**47 missed calls**

**16 voicemail messages**

**Stan, received 2:55pm**

Kyle we need to talk

**Stan, received 3:15pm**

This is important Kyle

**Stan, received 3:46pm**

TALK TO ME

**Stan, received 4:18pm**

YOU'RE A FUCKING BABY

**Stan, received 4:34pm**

MAYBE I WILL GO PLAY TONGUE TWISTER WITH JON

**Stan, received 5:05pm**

I THREW YOUR HISTORY BOOK OUT OF THE WINDOW

**Stan, received 5:06pm**

OHMYGODKYLEIKILLEDKENNY

**Stan, received 5:08pm**

I'm a bastard

**Stan, received 6:10pm**

I miss you

**Stan, received 7:27pm**

You've switched your phone off haven't you?

**Stan, received 8:12pm**

I didn't tell you I thought I was gay because it was you I was attracted to.

**Message sent, 10:16pm, 12th May**

You bastard. Now who's not answering his phone?

**1 new text message**

**Kenny, received 11:07pm**

STAN KILLED ME TWICE TODAY. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH HIM?

**Message sent, 11:09pm**

Twice?

**1 new text message**

**Kenny, received 11:11pm**

Thanks for your concern tittypooper. He threw a book at me and then he threw his phone at me

**Welcome to IM. You have 127 new emails.**

**Marshy:** KYLE

**0wner: **You killed Kenny twice.

**Marshy:** Shit.

**0wner:** And your sister's hogging the phone line again.

**0wner:** She's been on it for over an hour

**Marshy:** Oh

**Marshy:** So

**Marshy:** You got my messages?

**0wner:** Yeah

**Marshy:** And??

**0wner:** My place or yours, baby? ;)

**Marshy: **Both, dude, both


	3. Angry

Pillows weren't as innocent as everyone thought.

Pillows could be an accessory in murder. Pillows could hold heads they shouldn't. Pillows could see people's secrets.

The collective mind of pillows held memories the human race could well do without.

Pillows had to be punished.

Kyle could give them that punishment.

Kyle was giving them that punishment.

He pummelled the pillow on his bed. It was a member of an evil species and he was merely giving it what it deserved.

Better to punish the deserving. He could hate the deserving. He couldn't hate those just following their own desires, even if they did conflict with his own. They were the blameless ones, even if the sight of them together made his heart constrict. He had to be happy for them. His best friend was happy. That was good.

But the pillows...the pillows were bad. Pillows had to be punished.


	4. Awake

Stan opened his eyes. The world was green. He pulled the t-shirt, which wasn't his, off his face, and saw the world in a variety of colours once again. Sadly, the predominant colour was the inoffensive yet depressing beige of his new college room. He looked to the corner of the room, at the source both of the thrown t-shirt and the quiet soundtrack of swearing.

The source was gloriously naked.

"I thought today was underpants day," said Stan, sitting up in bed and watching his friend with barely concealed approval.

"I can't find any," groaned Kyle, turning around and waving his arms in exasperation. "Not a single pair!"

"Commando day?"

"No, dammit! I refuse to wear anything but underpants! It's the first day of college!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Stan, waving his hands at Kyle. "You cannot spend today naked! What if someone comes in?"

"Their problem." Kyle's face was horribly serious.

"And how are you going to eat?"

"I brought chips." Stan groaned and pinched his nose. He couldn't have a day with Kyle naked. He would have to spend the next month in hospital in order to recover from that severe a case of blue balls.

"Please, dude. Cover up. You can borrow a pair of my underpants if you must."

"What, you want me in your pants?" Kyle turned back to the wardrobe in time to miss the flash of guilt on Stan's face. "Where the fuck are my boxers?"

Stan just groaned and switched on the computer beside him. He crawled into the seat, determinedly facing away from Kyle, and began checking for entertaining updates that might possibly distract him from the delights and horrors behind him. He loaded up the latest cartoon in a series and turned the volume up to drown out Kyle's swearing. It worked perfectly; he could no longer hear a word from Kyle.

"Oh, cool, I was waiting for the next one of those." Stan jumped and turned in his seat. He found himself face to cock with Kyle. He couldn't help it. He stared.

"What, dude, you wanna suck it or something?" Kyle's voice was detached, his attention possibly more weighted towards the figures on screen. But Stan was similarly detached from reality and he found himself inching closer, until the only option was to take Kyle into his mouth. Kyle gasped but didn't resist. He knew he should stop, he knew he was endangering all and yet stopping was not now an option.

He glanced up at his friend with trepidation. Kyle's head was tilted back and his eyes closed – imagining someone else, someone female, doing this, Stan supposed with a sinking heart. He began thrusting gently into Stan's mouth; Stan happily accommodated him.

"Stan," Kyle breathed, sending shivers down Stan's spine and more blood to his crotch. "You – ahhh – don't have to – you know..." Stan replied by continuing as before and not breaking the rhythm. He might as well finish what he had begun. Kyle cried out from above and clutched Stan's head and hair with his hands.

"Stan," Kyle gasped. "Stan. I'm coming." Stan didn't release him from his mouth. It was to a background of desperate murmurs that Stan couldn't decipher that Kyle climaxed inside him. He swallowed and at once reality seemed to flood back to him. He should probably start looking at how to switch rooms. Kyle sunk down onto his bed and lay there, silent, aside from heavy pants for breath. He looked serene now, in the afterglow, but Stan suspected that wouldn't last. He began investigating the college website for accommodation queries.

"What're you doing?" Kyle mumbled, wriggling around on his bed in order to look at Stan properly.

"Stuff."

"Get over here."

"...why?"

"Snuggling? Kissing? Reciprocation?"

Stan turned and stared at Kyle, who gave all appearances of being serious. They held their gaze for a few seconds until Stan hesitantly joined Kyle. He perched on the very edge of the bed like a bird ready to take flight. Kyle quickly dragged him down onto the bed properly and wrapped his arms around him.

"You're taking this well," said Stan, running a slightly shaky hand through Kyle's hair. Kyle smiled and kissed him. They locked at the lips for some time. Stan's nervousness quickly abated.

"Dude, a hot guy I've wanted to screw for ages just blew me and it isn't even midday. This is like the best day ever. Now let me recover a bit and I can repay the favour, okay?"

It certainly was.


	5. Scared

It had been touted as the scariest movie ever made. Given that eternity was some way off, it was hard to verify this claim, but it had certainly been sufficiently scary for two of its viewers. In retrospect, Stan and Kyle both decided, it had been a bad idea to watch it in a house empty of anyone but two ten year-olds, on a windy night, whilst every howl of the wind sounded like an approaching werewolf and the house creaked with what could be footsteps of a maniacal murderer. They had reacted to these threats by creating a makeshift barricade. This had been skilfully formed by pushing Stan's desk in front of his door and then piling heavy items onto the desk, a defence sure to keep all potential threats at bay. They had also both had taken to arming themselves with power-tools from the garage. The fact that neither felt confident in using them was only a minor detail.

They had both retreated to the supposed safety of their bedding. Stan lay awake in his bed, unable to take his eyes off the window, the one point of entrance they could not guard against. Kyle tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, mentally debating if he was doomed according to horror movie rules. It was a politically incorrect fact that minorities rarely made it to the ending credits and he was wondering if his religion would, as Cartman had always insisted, be his downfall. The fact of the matter was that both boys were too terrified to sleep and, though neither would happily admit it, in need of comfort and reassurance.

Night grew darker in South Park as the minutes reluctantly dragged by. Neither was any closer to sleep. Kyle sat up in desperation. His hair was tussled from his restlessness. Wide eyed and pale, he turned to Stan.

"Stan," he hesitantly began, "I can't sleep."

"Me either," said Stan.

"Yeah. Your floorboards creak. The boiler is making noises."

"Yeah..."

"And it's fucking creepy down here. I keep seeing under your bed and all the crap makes it look like there's someone down there watching me."

"Jesus Christ! What if there is? Grab that axe!" Stan fumbled with his lamp whilst Kyle seized hold of the axe. They peered under Stan's bed with the aid of the newly found light. Nothing was under the bed that was not typically found there. Stan's back sagged.

"Stan, I want to sleep with you. In your bed, I mean," Kyle blurted out. "I can't sleep like this. It'll be gay, I know, but right now I don't give a fuck."

"Only if you'll sleep on the side closest to the window."

"Deal." Kyle climbed over Stan and into the vulnerable window spot. They shuffled in their reduced sleeping space, their limbs bumping as they negotiated territory. The bedsheets were predictably tugged in opposite directions, but both parties succeeded in satisfying their needs with little difficulty.

"Imagine if we get murdered like this," said Stan. "We'll look so gay."

"I hope that wouldn't be the first things my parents thought on finding out I was dead."

"Yeah. Night, Kyle."

"Night, Stan. Try not to die."

"You too."

They managed to make it to the next morning with neither of them dying through any inventive circumstances. They dressed, gave each other sheepish looks that only best friends could share, and then all returned to normal.

"Wait 'til we tell the other guys about this," Stan said with relish. "They are not going to believe we watched Murderhouse Number 3." He began collecting the assorted tools they had stockpiled the night before. Kyle started dismantling the door's barricade.

"Yeah, they're all going to be pissed. Especially when we tell them about the cannibal werewolf ripping the heads of six other werewolves in one move!"

"The bit where the zombie butcher hacked up the football team was better."

"No way, dude. One move, six decapitations. What could be better?"

"One axe swipe, three bodies cut in half!" Together, they pushed the desk from the door and re-entered the outside world.


End file.
